


New Fears

by F4wn



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, all the gays, also i wrote this during december so sorry about the christmas references ok, first fic im sorry bare with me this is all coming from my noggin, honestly idk how this will end up im sorry, just gimme a few ok, lots of lyric references i'll post in notes btw, maybe dirty things, more relationships will show up im sure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-22 11:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13763049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F4wn/pseuds/F4wn
Summary: Lena Oxton took quite the spill to become known as "Tracer", the new poster girl of Overwatch. However, much more was behind this "Slipstream" accident than she could possibly recall after the fuss. Now that everything seems to be falling apart, Lena begins to seek refuge in her favorite talon agent that somehow possesses the ability to bring daydreams, no, memories back into Lena's memory.





	1. Midnight Bulletproof

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This is my first time posting my writings to an open community, be gentle :'[

Their breath pumped out of them, leaving the small breaths of seeable air in the winter chill. Months have gone by and this is how it’s been worked out, an unassigned fight for each of them. It always starts out with them making plans they never intended to plan, finding each other in some obscure place and hinting towards the next day, another fight. Lena started to believe this was just entertainment for Widowmaker, while for her it was her only way to get everything out of her head. Emily left her, she knew that much. They hadn’t spoken, she was gone. Who knew someone could just walk out on her so easily? But then again, time left her just as fast. 

“You look distracted,” hissed her opponent. Widowmaker towered over her, the assassin’s foot rested on the Overwatch agent’s chronal accelerator, also known as her life line. 

A goofy grin spread across Lena’s face as she snapped back to reality. “Who wouldn’t be distracted with a drop dead gorgeous French assassin standing on top of her? I mean, c’mon. You must make people weak all the time.” 

The end of Widow’s Kiss’s barrel trailed along Lena’s jawline, her grin faltering for only a moment, gaining a wicked smile from Widowmaker. 

Widowmaker’s heel slipped off her accelerator and dug into Lena’s shoulder rather hard. “I hate that you talk so much.” The assassin lifted her foot and strut to the side of the roof they had corralled on, her chin lifting to check the world below. 

Tracer sat up, brushing off the foot print the other women left on her white device, “I keep it more entertaining. Unless you rather it just be us grunting and rolling on the floor together?” 

“You know as well as I that that would be preposterous.” 

“But it’d be bloody hot.” 

Widowmaker turned back around to look at the smaller women still sitting on the floor, she always was so submissive and respectful to her in their brawls. “You’ve been upset.” 

“For someone who doesn’t want me talking so much, you sure try to start conversations very often. Are you sure you’re not a fan of mine?” Tracer finally looked up at Widowmaker. She was right though; Widow was bloody gorgeous. Especially in the Christmas lights of Kings Row. The woman was curved in all the right ways, it wasn’t fair! 

The assassin started towards her, leaning down enough to get face to face with her. She even smelt great, coffee and peaches. All Tracer smelt of lately was cigarettes and sweat, and at this moment she became very conscious of it as Widowmaker reached out and ran her fingers through the brit’s spikey hair, pulling back a hand and presentenced her a very bloody hand. 

“Hell, you did me a good one, huh?” 

“You want me to.” Widowmaker wiped her hand on Tracer’s very yellow leggings, leaving a contrasting color scheme on them. “Maybe if I knock you around enough you’ll forget about her, won’t you?” 

The look on Lena’s face was enough for Widowmaker to know she was on the right track. Granted, it was rumored Widowmaker had no emotions, but that was a blatant lie. She knew damn well what it was like to have your heart broken. 

Lena licked her dry lips before standing up, stumbling slightly with the head injury. Her hand locked onto her skull in a pathetic attempt at keeping the blood in, tingling with the sensation of Widow’s fingers having just roamed there. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just in it for the fight, love. We all need some bad habits, no?” 

“Your bad habit is smoking. You’re drenched in the smell of it.” She lifted her hand up, rubbing the remains of Lena’s fresh blood between her fingers. 

Tracer snorted, “Blunt.” 

Widowmaker nodded in acknowledgement, “Honest.” 

“You always are.” 

Widow tilted her head, dropping her hand. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, chérie.” 

Tracer dropped her eyes again, “Why exactly did we stop? Shouldn’t you be stepping on me or something? I was enjoying that.” 

A burst of movement and Widowmaker had grabbed Tracer by the arm, shoving her to the side of the roof. Tracer’s head smacked against the floor, a cry of pain coming from the brit. Some blood had spurted against the concrete from the already bleeding head wound. Tracer pushed herself up on her elbow, becoming all too dizzy to even remember her recall. “Foolish girl. I can read you all too well. Did she leave you for some other women?” The assassin sauntered up to her, positioning herself above Lena as she previously had. The toe of her boot pushed against Lena’s chin, making her look straight up at Widowmaker’s golden gaze. “Why date a woman whose life is quite literally ticking to the brink of nonexistence every moment of the day? Or was it your bad habits? Stink up the flat too much?” 

It wasn’t that she was actually mad at the venom Widowmaker spat at her, but the smirk that spread across her lips, it twisted Lena’s stomach. 

Tracer grabbed onto Widowmaker’s ankle, flipping her over with a force they both didn’t realize Tracer was capable of at that moment. She shoved herself up, straddling her opponent with her hands restrained above her head. “You don’t know my life. No matter how much ‘intelligence’ you think you have on me. I have lived a completely different life than what you have written on paper.” Widowmaker’s eyes narrowed, Lena’s panting breath brushing the pieces of hair that had fallen loose from her regular ever-too-high ponytail. Blood started streaking down the brit’s hairline, gathering at the top of her goggles. 

“I hit a soft spot, haven’t I?” 

Tracer laughed a fake laugh, something Widowmaker never expected from the cheerful women. “I wish I could say I have a soft spot for you. I know you think you’ve been manipulating me. But these fights, they’ve been almost too much fun, right? Almost too easy.” 

Another smirk crossed Widow’s lips, her eyes trailing every feature on Tracer’s face right then. 

“What?” 

“You’re adorable,” Widowmaker whispered in French. 

At that, Tracer’s grip loosened, giving Widowmaker just enough time to reach out and grab her Widow’s Kiss, smacking Tracer across the face and escaping the straddle. Tracer fell to the side, shock spreading across her face. “You weaken for sweet talk.” 

Tracer stood up again, a flash of blue crossing Widowmaker’s vision as her gun was snatched, both of their grips remaining on the rifle. Tracer blinked into the air, dragging Widowmaker with her small flip, twisting the assassin’s arm enough to let go of the rifle. Tracer pointed it at her in such an awkward stance Widowmaker almost giggled. “My rifle is far too big for you.” 

Tracer winked at her, “I can handle big… bloody Hell I can’t believe I just said that.” 

Widow made no expression or movement that expressed her want for the gun back. She simply stood there, hands at her sides. Her lose hair slung around her hips, the rest of it still somehow neatly in a tight pony. 

Lena started laughing that laugh, the one where you can’t stop. Her hands started shaking along with the rifle in the same grip. She was hysterical, shaking her head along with the rest of her body. “I’m losing it,” Lena laughed out, “I’ve been rolling on the floor with a wanted criminal every night for the past 4 months!” She looked back up at Widowmaker whose face still hadn’t faltered, her eyes gazing upon Tracer’s, not the rifle. 

Lena dropped the gun, walking away and throwing her arms up, turning towards the city of Kings Row. “I’ve lost it!” she shouted across the roof tops, “I have no clue what I’m doing anymore!” She laughed even harder, turning back to Widowmaker, dropping her arms. “I have no worth,” she spat, “you’re the only thing that has gotten me up every afternoon. The only reason I get up is to fight with you.” 

Tracer fell to her knees in front of her enemy, gripping her head as tears streamed down, mixing with the same blood from earlier that receded from her hairline. “I have no worth,” she whispered again. 

Suddenly the brit’s body dropped hard to the floor, something Widowmaker had expected for some time. She hadn’t expected the woman’s adrenaline to last as long as it had. She walked towards the lump, reaching out and brushing Tracer’s hair out of her face. “You have a great worth, Lena Oxton,” the assassin whispered into the air, lost to the night. She scooped Lena’s small body up into her arms, hopping from roof to roof until she found where she came from, grappling down with Lena still in her right arms grip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We Were Here // Lights


	2. Something 'bout Our Opposites Attract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena finds herself in an unknown location, surprisingly less shocked by this than she should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost Christmas! (even though it really isn't hah)

A night and a ton of bandages later, Lena found herself stumbling down an unfamiliar hallway, eventually stopping at a bathroom. She staggered to the loo, toppling over it and wrenching whatever was left in her stomach directly into the porcelain toilet. “Hell,” she whispered to herself, her voice cracking with a dry throat. 

Lena stood up, taking in what her surroundings actually were while wiping away the remains of her mess from her mouth. The washroom was painted with a pretty soft green, the floors decorated with a white tile. The loo itself was self-flushing. There was both a walk in-shower and a bath the size of a Jacuzzi, supposing it could be both. Still staggering, she found the counter with twin sinks, twisting both the handles on the left one, flushing her face with water and scooping some into her mouth. 

Somehow she found a towel in the millions of cabinets surrounding her, drying off her face. She dared to look into the mirror, realizing how Hellish she looked. Bruises lined along her right cheek, a cut on the left. Her eyes both had swelling just under them. She was still dressed in her blood dried yellow leggings, her leather jacket off leaving only the white tank and sports bra she wore under. It wasn’t the first time Lena woke up somewhere she didn’t recognize, but it also wasn’t like Overwatch bases to have no one wandering the halls. She stepped out of the washroom, peaking around the corners of the castle like place until she stood in a library room, the outside world appearing right next to the room with a giant arch complimenting the structure. 

Hesitating at the archway she took in the view. The castle seemed to of been on an island of some sort, a beautiful sea stretched around it, the city far beyond her reach. “Where am I?” she wondered aloud. 

“Château Guillard,” a familiar French accent spoke behind her. 

Lena jumped around, her back to the balcony gate. “Oh, bugger. You gobsmacked me,” the brit gasped out, staring wide eye’d at Widowmaker. 

Widowmaker’s expression of amusement took Lena away for a second, her golden eyes softened and her eyebrows raised a little. “That was the most British thing I have ever heard you say.” She wore a long sleeved black shirt with rips at the shoulders, her slacks matching the same black. Her shoes were simple, flats with no heel. 

Lena gave her a lopsided smile, raising her right arm up and resting her hand at the back of her neck in an awful attempt at hiding her embarrassment. “I… yeah, there’s not much I can say to that. Cheers.” 

Widowmaker simply nodded, walking over to the library type room and shutting close the laptop at the desk. She set down a glass of wine, glancing over at the clock that read 2PM. “You’ve been out for almost two days.” 

“Two?” Lena blurted, her eyes widening. She ran over towards the other woman to look at the clock herself, the calendar next to it. “It’s the 23rd? Bloody… I haven’t done any shopping! It’s in two days. Hell.” 

“What’s in two days?” Widowmaker spoke leaning back a bit, surprised by the other woman’s closeness. 

“Christmas!” Lena looked at her, “Only one of the best Holidays out there! I personally don’t celebrate it within my family, but the Overwatch crew… Well, Winston and Athena, sometimes Angela and Fareeha will show up. But this year, possibly more with the recall and all that! And I, like the tosh I am, forgot to shop.” 

The assassin nodded as if she could catch anything Lena was spewing, it all came out so fast. 

Then it occurred to Lena. She was standing in her enemies home… castle. She took a few steps back, tilting her head to the side with an eyebrow cocked. “Why am I here?” 

Widowmaker tittered, taking a delicate sip from her wine, spinning the glass between her fingers like she had the other day with Lena’s blood, suddenly making Lena feel far from ease. “You didn’t expect me to drop you off at some Watch Point, did you? And your flat, I doubt you’d want any glass or doors broken with my name written all over it. So my best option was to take you here, my home away from home.” 

Lena nodded, feeling a bit out of it again. She found her way to a chair, grasping the top of it to steady her own balance. “Kind of you I guess. But I need to get home.” 

“Theres a passage under the castle that will take us to the cities surface towards a train that leads towards Kings Row.” 

“Is that what you took me on to get me here? A tube?” 

Widowmaker literally snorted, giving Lena’s lightheadedness a break for a solid moment. “You think I would be that careless, Tracer? You’re wearing a bright blue and white accelerator, and I, I’m a wanted criminal whose skin is very recognizable.” 

Lena shrugged, almost laughing herself, “I suppose it was a silly question… Now where’s my jacket?” 

Widow finally stood up and set her wine glass down again, “Follow me.” 

Lena did as told, watching the woman strut through the hallways. Something about it was so familiar, déjà vu. 

Stopping dead in her tracks, she saw a vision of a woman walking down the same hall, reality disappearing. The woman turned in her tracks to look back at Lena, “Why are you just staring at me, Mon Coeur? Come on!” The smile she gave Lena brightened the hall, her eyes lighting up with this beautiful smile. 

Reality slapped her back into place, still looking at the back of Widowmaker, except she managed to get a lot further down the hall while Lena was day dreaming. Lena did a light jog to catch up, blinking her eyes a bit faster than normal to understand what she just saw. It felt real, it felt like a memory. 

Widowmaker stopped at a doorway, opening it for the both of them. It was another wash room, except this one was for clothes. Her jacket hung with plastic around it as if it were being picked up at some dry cleaners. Lena walked over and grabbed it, quickly slinging it on to cover the white tank top she felt overly exposed in next to Widowmaker. “Who else lived here?” Lena asked, looking up at the woman after zipping up the jacket. 

Widow tilted her head, her pony tail drifting to the side. “No one that I’m aware of, my family has owned this estate for centuries.” 

“And your family… doesn’t come here?” 

“They haven’t been… home for a while. Been away.” Widow turned on her heel, “come along now, the exit is this way.” 

Lena nodded, following her once again. Once they reached the end of the hall, Widow turned to her. “Just go straight, you’ll find your way out.” 

“It goes under the water?” 

Widowmaker nodded. 

“Huh.” Lena started heading out towards the door, her wrist getting caught by the taller woman. She was twisted back around to look at Widowmaker’s piercing gaze. 

“If you tell any of your little Overwatch friends where this place lays, I will personally find a way to murder them all. I risked a lot bringing your foolish cul here instead of letting you freeze on top of that roof. You understand?” Her grip tightened around Lena’s, the circulation in Lena’s hand quickly being lost. 

“I understand,” she spoke aloud. 

Widowmaker let go of her wrist, Lena grabbed it back and started rubbing at it. She turned back around and started down the passage, towards her destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music: Magnetic Field // Lights


	3. Better Hope I Don't Blink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena finds herself surrounded by those she calls family, her team all getting together again for a holiday dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Crisis !! again, sorry. I realize its March. I just really like winter vibes ok.

Two days later and Lena found herself standing smacked dab at the middle of giant dining table in Gibraltar, the only watch point that remains active as of now. Also known as Winston’s home. 

Lena showed up early as usual. She wore a red sweater under her accelerator with a knit beanie cap on. Her pants were simple black slacks that clung to her legs, combat boots to match. Lena was used to the cold weather, seeing that she grew up in it almost all her life. 

Winston had put use to her, having her blink back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room table, setting all the platters around. This would be the first Christmas in years where more than 6 people sat at this table. 

“Lena, why don’t you take off your accelerator? You know I made it possible for you here for a reason,” Winston nagged at her, pointing at the charging station. 

Lena smiled at him, “Yes, I know big guy. I just wanted to be a bit of use before I sit my arse down,” she laughed, unbuckling the accelerator from her chest and setting it down onto the charging station. She stretched out her arms and back, finally freeing herself of the restraint. 

“It hasn’t been bugging you, has it?” Winston asked while walking to the dining table, setting out the last of the silverware. 

“No, no. I’ve just been running around quite a bit you see.” She skipped over to the table, putting her nose out in the air, “That smells delicious,” Lena whined. 

“Gotta wait for the rest of the gang, Lena.” 

“I knoooooooow,” Lena moaned out in annoyance, lightly kicking at the chair leg like a child. She pulled out one of the chairs and finally sat, looking over the table and admiring their handiwork. 

She started drumming her fingers on the table, gazing over the dining room. Nothing has changed, it never does here. The only activity comes from Winston, and he hardly leaves his lab. Athena was the only other thing that could be considered living here, except she took up no physical form. She did however make sure the whole watch point stayed nice and neat, cleaning and sweeping with a small set of physical mechanical arms Winston created for her. It wasn’t a body, but it was close enough for Athena to do something other than read his vitals or research every moment of the day. 

Today however, Athena sat at the end of the table in a little tablet, her lights indicating she was off in the watch point doing other things, perhaps watching the cameras for intruders, considering a lot of agents were to gather here today, a perfect day to attack them. Lena hopped she would join them all for dinner, even if she didn’t eat. Athena deserved a Holiday break just as much as the rest of them. 

Lena begun to reach out to knock on Athena’s screen when a very joyful Angela popped through the door, “It’s the most happiest time of the year!” the woman sang in a German. 

“Wonderful!” shouted another voice from down the hall, Fareeha. 

Lena popped up out of her chair when Angela started her way, wrapping her arms around Lena tightly enough to suffocate the brit. “I know that!” Angela shouted back, clearly lying when she looked at Lena and shook her head. Lena simply gave the blonde a toothy smile, shrugging. 

Fareeha finally caught up, “Lena!” 

“Fareeha!” 

The Egyptian smiled at the girl, walking over and stealing her from the embrace of Angela. Lena, taken aback a bit, slowly wrapped her arms back around her in response. Fareeha smelt a bit of liquor already, assuming she had prepped herself before seeing her mother, Ana. It wasn’t that Fareeha hated her mother, but Lena understood the pain in Fareeha’s eyes when she looked at her mother who abandoned her for years, forcing the girl to practically raise herself as she was so far away from her father in Canada. 

Fareeha finally let go, allowing Lena to finally take them in. They wore matching elf sweaters, the classic ugly Christmas sweaters. Lena laughed a bit before raising her eyebrows at them. “Oh shut it, Lena!” Anglea scolded, slapping Lena’s arm playfully. 

“Ow, Ang! It’s supposed to be Christmas, not abuse Lena day,” the brit teased back, rubbing her arm as if it actually hurt. 

Angela rolled her eyes and looked around, “Where’s Winston?” 

Lena nodded towards the kitchen door, “He’s been slaving all day on dinner tonight. I think he’s really excited for everyone to finally be back together.”

“Well, he did initiate a recall.” Angela said, her voice falling with the sentence. Lena knew how much Angela was against Overwatch getting back together. Angela fought to keep people alive all around the world as of late, being pulled back from her work and asked to keep her family alive didn’t sound too appealing to Lena either, but of course Angela would say yes. There isn’t a thing you could say to keep the doctor away from protecting her family after she’d lost her parents so long ago. 

As for Fareeha, she technically never was part of Overwatch, or even asked to join. But Winston said “the more the merrier”, with the exception of background checks, DNA tests, drug tests, and, well… all the tests. Her mother, however, was part of Overwatch before the fall. They all knew they could count on the Amari’s, and it was also an escape route for Angela to take out on the field. Not to mention, they were in love. 

Angela grabbed Lena by the hand and forced her to sit back down with her, “How are you, Lena?” 

The one question Lena would have to lie about for the rest of the night. She forced another toothy grin and simply said, “Great.” 

The rest of the night was full of shouts, wine, beer, rum, and all the booze in the watch point. All the original agents of Overwatch shuffled in along with some of the newer ones everyone knew from around the world but never quite met. Lena, however, knew plenty of them from going to peace rally’s. In fact, it seemed like Lena was the only one who really knew most of them, besides Winston. There was Lucio, a DJ who goes around the world to spread peace with his music, his girlfriend Hana, also known as D.Va as her online gamer tag and Meka suite she used to fight in the Korean war to protect her country. She was the youngest of them all and that scared Lena. She was only 19 and yet her eyes have already seen so much. Although, the young girl managed to hide a lot of her story with her charmingly competitive attitude. They were, however, the only two who would be showing up for this Christmas dinner. McCree, Morrison, Reinhardt, Torbjörn, and their faithful sidekick, Brigitte all came filing in as the hour went on, every one of them sitting down around the table Winston and Tracer set out so nicely. 

It was at this point Lena decided to stop being such a tight ass and start drinking with her favorite Cowboy, swallowing whatever the man handed to her, most of it pure vodka and rum. Lena was never one to really drink, but it was one night, right? Who was it going to harm? 

The night went on after dinner, all of them gathering in the watch points main room where Athena finally joined them, part of her program still watching the outside world to protect their small family. Lena and McCree started cracking wise jokes with each other, none of it harmful at all. Angela nearly snorted up her mom wine listening to the mouths on them. Hana and Lucio were all smiles, telling their tales of their adventures willingly with their new family, and eventually managing to make the room arrangements with Winston over the chaos. Since some of them were so far from home Winston has agreed to opening the base open further for everyone. The rooms in the back of the watch point were always meant for the agents, but Winston had turned them into storage rooms expecting this recall to never happen. Lena herself would even have a room here if she’d like. 

After a few more hours, most of them all headed to bed, leaving Angela and Lena alone by the fireplace. Lena hummed to herself, tapping on her knees while watching the fire. Angela smiled down at her, bumping her shoulder with her own, “I’m going to drive you home, okay?” 

Lena looked over at her with a drunken smile, “Are you coming on to me, Ang?” 

Angela snorted and slapped the girl on her shoulder once again, “I’m spoken for, liebling.” 

The brit shrugged, “Your loss.” 

“Oh, I’m sure.” 

After a few more minutes of babbling, Angela finally managed to get the girl in her accelerator and had her in the car. Angela knew the girls address by heart, just as she had everyone else’s. Lena had pressed her forehead to the glass on the passenger side looking out at her Kings Row. 

“Not in the mood for talking?” Angela asked, looking over at Lena. 

“Mmm? Oh, no, just tired. And drunk. Very drunk. I fear the regret in the morning.” 

Angela smiled, pulling up to the flat gates. She put the car in park, taking Lena’s hand. “Seriously, you’re okay?” 

Lena nodded, “Peachy keen,” she leaned over and kissed Angela’s cheek. “Thanks, mom.” 

Angela nodded as she watched the girl stumble out of the car, “Drink lots of water!” she shouted after her, watching her to make sure she made it to her flat’s door. 

The doctor pinched the bridge of her nose. She clearly knew everything about Lena’s life, but who was she to intrude? Angela was only ever around for medical emergencies. Lena and her were close, but not that close. She started to reach for the ignition before catching movement on top a building blocks away. Normally, nobody would be able to spot this. But the doctor was trained in more ways than saving lives. She continued her fluid motions of pulling out of the drive before making her way over towards the building in her car. 

The blonde found herself in at the bottom of a very sketchy alleyway, but what had she to fear? She already knew damn well who she saw. Once she approached the ladder to the top of the building she began climbing. Even in heels the woman was unstoppable. She made no noise to indicate she was there, though they both already knew each other’s presence. 

“Mercy,” Widowmaker said, keeping her eyes trained out over towards Lena’s apartment. 

Angela narrowed her eyes at the back of the assassin’s head. “You’re not supposed to be here. We agreed you wouldn’t show yourself around here.” 

Widowmaker’s laugh only hurt to hear compared to what it once was, to who she once was. “Who decided on that rule?”

“Overwatch did. The day you killed my friend.” She walked towards her, centering herself on the roof. 

Widow’s back muscles twitched at the response. “He killed me first.” 

Mercy rolled her eyes, “You can be so dramatic, Amélie. You were having an affair.” 

This made Widowmaker whip her head around to look at the blonde, her golden gaze only full of hatred at this moment, at this conversation. “And that justifies his actions?” She spat, “forgive me. I didn’t realize that allowed him to destroy everything I was. To destroy another’s life.” 

Mercy tilted her head, “If I remember correctly, you destroyed yourself. You did this to yourself. You left us when there was so much more we could do.” 

“And he would have never gotten what was coming to him,” Widow simply stated, turning her eyes back towards the horizon of Kings Row. 

She was in her cat suite, clearly far from freezing. Mercy knew that though, she had read her vitals from miles away on battle fields. Unlike most of the other Overwatch agents, they ran into each other frequently. Mercy was still a combat medic frantically trying to bring those Widowmaker killed back to life on the field. The two women had nothing in common other than who Widowmaker once was, Angela’s friend. Truth be told, Mercy feared this new Talon agent even though Widowmaker has never laid a hand on her and probably never would. She may have sold her soul, but she still clearly carried the memories of her past life very fondly towards the ones who once treated her as if family.

Mercy shook her head, “That’s not the point. You took it all on for yourself when you and Lena hid so much. You knew we could find her; you knew we had the technology but you still murdered him.” 

“I knew what it would do to her,” Widowmaker spoke with her back still to her. 

Mercy clenched her fists, walking up closer, standing just over the other woman’s shoulder. “You knew nothing, Amélie!” 

The assassin finally stood up and turned to the doctor, getting close enough to press her chest on hers. “You and I both know Lena isn’t going to make it past 50. You and I both know she lives in trauma; she can’t have a normal life again. You took her and turned her into your poster girl. It was selfish and uncalled for. And the memories you replaced the year before any of this happened… it’s catching up. She’s barely holding onto this reality. She loses everything she works for in almost a blink of an eye.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t killed Mondatta and started showing up in her location every night…” 

“Mondatta was a mission. Mondatta was to send a sign to Overwatch, to keep you all from reassembling. But that didn’t seem to work,” she looked over Mercy’s expression as she spoke, reading every small muscle movement the doctor gave. 

“And the museum?” Mercy raised a brow. She was shorter than Widowmaker, trying to appear intimidating almost felt foolish. 

“I had no clue she would be part of that. I made no motives towards her other than self-defense.” 

“And yet your leader, the leader of Talon, still managed to get that gauntlet and tear her out of time yet again. And who put her back together? Certainly not you.” Mercy licked her own lips, taking a step back from the taller woman. “And that’s how she lost Emily, because of Talon.” 

Widowmaker chuckled sarcastically, shaking her head, “Lena lost Emily because the woman wanted her to be something she wasn’t. She wanted her to take her out in public and Lena wasn’t going to risk that, seeing that everything she’s done so far has only lead to disaster.” 

“Mm. And you think you can make it better?” 

Widowmaker pressed her lips together and looked away, returning back to original post. “I think I can try.” 

Mercy stared at her back, her blue eyes resting on the other woman’s shoulder blades as she felt herself give up this fight, this ongoing argument that’s been going on for ages now. “Don’t hurt her. You must tell her the truth.” The blonde straightened her shoulders, eyes trailing to the floor with a sigh, “You were right. I can tell somethings up, she knows something. She’s recalling things and it’s screaming in her eyes. We can’t explain it to her, and to her, you’re only a stranger. I wouldn’t blame her for not believing you.” 

Widowmaker only nodded at this. 

Mercy sighed and rolled her shoulders back, “Don’t let anyone else know what you’re up to, Amélie.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

The blonde nodded, taking one last glance at her old friend before turning on her heel and heading towards the ladder from which she came from. 

“Angela?” 

Mercy turned back around to see Widowmaker still sitting in the same position showing no signs of sparing a glance at her. “Merry Christmas.” 

The ends of Angela’s lips twitched, “Merry Christmas, Amélie.” 

And with that Angela headed back to her car, back to the watch point to find her lover safely tucked away in their bunk, leaving Widowmaker on top of the roof in the cold, watching over Lena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written to: Fake Happy // Paramore


	4. I Wanna Know What's Your Quietest Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena has a bit of a rough night while intoxicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the very late upload, been a tad bit busy. I promise to try and keep the floof up!!

Widowmaker remained perched on the same building a few blocks away, her eyes scanning the area around Lena’s apartment. She figured tonight would be harder on the Brit, she had finally introduced her past partner, Emily, to her Overwatch family last year. Not including Winston, Emily had already met the Gorilla several times before that dinner. Widow let go of the Widows Kiss for a moment to stretch out her arms and neck. She had been straining this position for a few hours now, realizing her brief release was a quick mistake once the lights bloomed out of Lena’s flat. Quickly, the assassin scoped back in with her infra-sight. 

Lena was standing at the base of her flat. And that was it, she was just standing there. 

“What are you up to, Lena?” Widowmaker whispered to herself in French. 

Slowly but surely Lena walked over towards her couch, sitting down for a moment with her shoulders hunched over her legs. She held her head in her hands, completely still. Then she started shaking, her body convulsing with what looked like laughter. The woman then stood up and shoved her foot through the glass coffee table shattering the thing in whole. 

Widow raised her brow before standing up. She grappled over towards the next roof, and the next, until she eventually landed on Lena’s flat’s balcony. Hesitantly, she raised her knuckles to knock on the balcony’s door. 

“Now’s not the time sexy French assassin,” Lena exclaimed out from the inside of the flat. 

“Are you drunk?” Widowmaker called back to her. 

“Yup!” Lena was still standing with one leg in her broken coffee table, glancing over at the glass balcony door. Surely enough, the ‘sexy’ French assassin was in fact there. 

“Let me in.” It was a demand, much less a question. 

Lena simply stuck her tongue out at the other woman, stepping through the glass and picking up a vase by the front door. She looked over it fondly before hurling it straight at the balcony door. Widow’s expression remained the same, clearly not impressed by this action. 

“I will let myself in, then.” 

And she did, breaking the glass door with the butt of her rifle. She reached through and unlocked the door from the inside. 

“Hey! That’s breaking and entering, you tart.” Lena wiggled a finger at her, her other hand resting on her hip. She looked ridiculous and… sad. 

Widowmaker nodded, stepping in and closing the door behind her as if she didn’t just break the thing. “I’m bored.” 

Lena started towards her, stopping just a few steps away. 

And there they stood, in an apartment full of shattered items. Lena’s eyes were red rimmed and Widow’s the same sharp gold. 

“Why did you break these things?” 

“I’m bored,” Lena mocked. 

Widow’s lips twitched. “Liar.” 

Lena busted out in giggles, nodding her head. “You know everything, don’t you? You and that little Sombra hacker. Oh, and we can’t forget Gabriel Reyes can we? I’m sure you all have so much fun sitting around a lunch table gossiping like children about the pathetic lives the almighty Overwatch agents have now, don’tcha, love?

“Definitely drunk.” 

Lena continued to laugh, lifting her hand up towards Widow’s face, booping her nose. “Definitely.” 

Widowmaker took her hand in her own, removing it from the proximity of her face. 

Lena snatched her shaky hand away and turned on her heel. She hardly took caution walking around the glass as she returned back towards the front door and grabbed a framed photo that had been knocked down for months now. “You know about Emily? Right?” 

Widowmaker chose not to respond, simply gazing at the object in Lena’s drunken hands. 

“You do,” Lena answered for her. She lifted the photo to show Widowmaker. It was actually quite lovely, the two women stood in front of a fireplace, clearly at the Watchpoint. Lena had her arms draped around the other woman’s waist, her head nuzzled into Emily’s neck. They both had beautiful smiles, they both looked so alive and happy. Lena’s smile could light up a room, and Emily’s only complimented this. 

“I do.” 

Lena looked back up towards Widowmaker, then twisted the photo back around towards her to look at it herself. And then it was added to the collection of glass on the floor with a swift flick of Lena’s wrist. “Then I don’t have to explain anything else.” 

She walked over towards the small kitchen area of her flat, kneeling down and rummaging through the cabinets of her home. “Ahah!” the brit explained, popping back up with a bottle of wine in her hand. 

Widowmaker shook her head and walked towards her, reaching out for the wine. “You’ve had enough.” 

Lena smirked and wiggled her finger at her once again, shaking her head, “silly French lady, I’m never going to be drunk enough to forget this.”

And then her wrists were caught in a tight grip, Widowmaker once again consciously closer to Lena, not that Lena was even self-aware at this point. 

“Hey!” Lena shouted at her, struggling to pull her wrists back.

“Drop the wine.” Widowmaker demanded at her again. 

Lena lifted her knee up straight into Widowmaker’s gut, her grip gone just as fast. Lena quickly got the cork out of the bottle, throwing the liquor back straight from the bottle. Once Widow caught a hold of herself, she stood straight up and snatched the bottle from the girl. 

Lena growled at her, jumping for the bottle. Widowmaker held it just out of her reach with her longer arms. She let Lena jump at the glass for a few seconds before using her other arm to jab Lena in the side. Lena gasped, collapsing down on the kitchen floor. “Unfair,” she gasped out. 

“You started it.” 

Lena gripped at Widowmaker’s left ankle as she set the bottle on the counter, pulling her right down on the floor with her. Lena then attempted to pop back up but was caught in Widowmaker’s arms. “You don’t need to drink, Tracer. You and I both know you’re better than this,” Widow hissed through her teeth, keeping the drunk brit in her grasp. 

“I’m no good at anything!” Lena cried out, still struggling to get up. Widow’s grasp only got tighter the more she struggled. “I’m so tired of being so fucked up,” she whispered, “I’m so tired of being used.” 

Her struggles ceased but Widow’s grip remained just as tight. Lena hunched back over and begun to shake while simultaneously shaking her head. “I’m sorry.” 

Even though the apology wasn’t towards Widow, she nodded her head, lightly loosening her grip on Lena. However, Lena turned in her arms and wrapped her own arms around Widowmaker’s neck, holding Widow to herself. Widow hesitantly wrapped her arms around her back again. Lena nuzzled her face into her enemies neck, shivering. “You’re freezing,” she mumbled against her, the stink of liquor rising to burn Widow’s nostrils. 

Widowmaker sighed and pulled Lena’s legs up into her arms as she stood up. She walked the girl into her room, slowly laying her down. Lena’s arms remained around Widowmaker’s neck. “You have to let go.” 

“You know more about my life than I do,” Lena whispered up towards her. 

“What makes you think that?” Widowmaker whispered back. 

She kept her arms heavy against Widowmaker’s neck, holding onto her still. “I can see it in your eyes. And every time I see you, some day dream hits me, except it’s not a day dream, it’s real. You and I were real.” 

Widowmaker laughed, “You’re drunk, chèrie.” 

Lena shook her head. “Don’t leave.” 

Widow sighed and nodded, “You still have to let go.” 

Lena nodded and finally let go, covering herself in the blankets on her bed. “Lay with me,” she whispered again, looking up at Widow to capture some sort of expression. She remained to have the same stoic face, curtly nodding. Widow walked over to the other side of the bed and sat on top of the covers. 

“I said lay,” Lena turned on her side to continue looking at her. Widowmaker sighed and laid down on her back as requested, staring up at the ceiling. Lena truly smelt awful, but who was she to judge? At least Lena only drank over a heartbreak, not that Widowmaker wanted her to. But of course this situation made it safe. Lena wouldn’t recall this in the morning. 

Lena smiled softly and turned her face into the pillow, “Thank you, Amélie.” 

Widow quickly looked over at Lena, seeing she was already fast asleep. She rolled onto her side and gently ran her fingers through Lena’s short hair. Her eyes scanned the half of the girls face she could see. Her freckles were defined in the little light the moon offered Widow, and her eyes were bruised just under. She hasn’t been sleeping, that much was apparent. “Of course, ma chérie.”

A few hours would pass by and Widowmaker would rise, picking up her Widow’s Kiss and exiting the flat the same way she entered. Another few hours would go by, and Lena would wake up to a mess of an apartment and no memory of what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bodyache // Purity Ring


	5. Liability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4AM memories catch up with Lena while buzzed, a bit of the past that continues to eat at her, the fear she holds and the one she thought would always be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally wrote as a small tidbit idea a while back, it was originally going to be a different story all together BUT I wanted to fit it into this story for you all! (Also, side note: I adore Emily with all my heart!! I swear she isn't supposed to be a villain in this story, she's just not able to keep up with Lena, at least not how I wrote her. I'm not tryna knock her, but this IS a Widowtracer fic.)

Lena’s eyes fluttered when she slept, naturally. Widowmaker long gone supposedly, with truly no evidence of ever being within the flat, only Lena’s messy self-destruction and booze.  


Kings Row’s lights started dimming, leaving only the street lights illuminating the city’s floor. It was somewhere around 4AM when a still buzzed Lena Oxton woke up and hobbled over to the bathroom taking no dare to turn those blinding lights on, leaning over the porcelain sink to find her own brown eyes glaring back at her. Alas, this wasn’t the first time this has happened.

  


_“C’mon Lena, you’re a bloody field agent for Heaven’s sake. You’ve beat forces so much stronger than this childlike fear,” she scoffed, turning the sinks faucet on, cupping the water into her own hands and splashing her face with the cold water._  
_It’s been several nights now, the young agent waking up in the middle of the night alone yet again in her bed. She had no clue why she tried anymore, trying to fit in with a life partner. She thought for sure Emily would be the one, the one who understood. It was her after all that helped her feel normal after the Slipstream incident, gave her hope for a somewhat normal life._

  


_A small chuckle escaped through her lips, standing back up with her hands gripping the sink. The edges of her hair near her face dripping from the water. “Maybe I was bound to be alone with this curse.” Pushing off the sink, she walked back into the bedroom and sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the door that lead to the living room. The living room in which she shared tea with Emily, where she spent Christmas with the one she thought she would spend the rest of her days with._

  


_This isn’t new, this has happened several times before. So many girlfriends have entered the 25 year olds life. The several foster parents she had, the rebellious ways of her younger years, stealing cars and making out with the girls she managed to swoon. Never once had she settled down the way she did with Emily though. But maybe that had to do with the fact that she felt like a freak, like the only one who would understand her predicament would be the one who helped her make her greatest strength her own life support, her weakness._

  


_Lena’s eyes trailed over to that exact device, her accelerator. It laid on its charging device by her bed. Winston managed to make this one a few months ago, allowing her to not have to wear the bloody thing at all times, instead she could exist a few feet away from it, in fact she could exist in the entire apartment without having to worry about being lost to time. It was a small success, but the simple fact was that if something happens to that damned thing she would be lost._

  


_October was when it happened for the first time. Genji, Winston, and her all fighting one of the world’s most threatening man, Talon’s one and only leader, Doomfist. He had ripped off the girls accelerator, making her disappear right in front of her teams eyes. It felt like years, like she had missed a lifetime when Winston brought her back for a second time. The scientist used the same technology as before, he brought it all the way from his lab to return to the battlefield to track the girl’s energy down. Mercy had found her curled up on top of a crushed car. “Lena!” was all she heard before she was brought up in the doctor’s arms, shaking like mad._

  


_It was about a week later when Emily had had it. The night terrors, the constant waking up and pacing, gripping onto things in order to stay sane. “Take your meds, Lena!” the red head would tell her, taking Lena’s hands gently into her own._

  


_At this Lena would pull her hands away, giving her partner a stare with furrowed brows. “I don’t need them. I can do this.”_

  


_"You can’t do this on your own, Lena. You need your meds, they don’t make you weak, love. They’re only going to help,” Emily whispered into the dark, stroking her thumb over her girlfriend’s hands. “Please, darling. I’m so worried. We can’t live like this, we never get sleep.”_

  


_Lena scoffed, “We? Correction, I. I can’t sleep. I’m the one whose been forgotten by time, Emily. I’m so bloody scared I’m just going to leave this world without even dying. I’m in a purgatory. I’m panicking every time I close my eyes. So forgive me for needing to reminding myself I’m still here at 2AM.”_

  


_“You’re not just panicking, Lena!” Emily let go of the girl’s hands, crossing her arms. She looked just as bad as Lena, her hair all over the place. Standing in the living room with just a tank top and shorts on. “We’re standing here arguing at 2AM. It’s become so much more than that. You’ve become clingy, you’ve been keeping me from my work. Angela calls me constantly asking me how you are, she calls me at work, at dinner dates with my parents. I’ve become a babysitter, I don’t even feel like your girlfriend anymore, Lena. You don’t take me anywhere, you tell me all these amazing stories and leave me sitting here at this goddamn flat!”_

  


_“Take you where? Where would you like me to take you? I’m no good, Emily. I have to hide myself unless on a mission, the only safe place for you to be seen with me in public is at work. You have no clue how many people are out there just dying to cause me more pain. As the face of Overwatch, the new postergirl. I’m of value for anyone to hurt, to bring down and show to the public.” Lena balled up her fists by her side, clutching the ends of her own shorts._

  


_“Then I suppose you don’t think I’m strong enough to handle myself out there in this big scary world, being your girlfriend,” Emily spoke, sounding defeated. “This is just another thing we’re not going to get over. I don’t want to hide my love, I can’t sit here any longer. I thought we were getting somewhere a week ago, until this happened. Lena, until you can handle yourself and understand I want to be known, that I want to be seen holding your hand. Until then, I’ll be waiting for you.”_

  


It was a harsh pluck of skin that snapped Lena out of this memory. “Ouch,” she hissed, popping her index finger into her mouth. The bad habit of picking at her finger nails cut open yet another hang nail opening.

  


An attempt at closing her eyes while standing completely failed when she almost fell over, reminding her ‘hey, you’re drunk!’  
The girl quickly gathered herself together for being so buzzed and did her business in the bathroom. She walked back over to her bed and flopped down onto the mattress, not even bothering to burrow into the blankets she had piled on her mattress.

  


She was so tired of feeling sorry for herself, so tired of having these memories. It was torturous. In the small event that she ever did gather herself together, the cut was too deep. Of course Lena adored Emily with all her heart, she adored everything the girl had done for her in the few months she’d known her. But it was Lena in the end who had the decisions to make, the choice to allow herself this new life.

  


In a matter of minutes the brit’s eyelids fell heavy, sleep claiming her yet again, the next day promising new events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liability (Reprise) // Lorde


End file.
